


Feel You On Me

by sweaterpawnoctis



Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: Age Difference, Asexual Harry, Bottom Zayn, Cheating, Father Louis, M/M, Older Louis, Top Louis, Writer Zayn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-20 01:38:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5987739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweaterpawnoctis/pseuds/sweaterpawnoctis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'It's going to be the worst birthday ever, but this guy beside me is really hot, so today isn't that bad,' he thinks to himself and yes, he is aware that Harry is trying to hold his attention and he's over here drooling over some strange that is probably more than five years older than him, but he can't help himself. </p><p>It's not like he's fantasizing of sneaking off into the bathroom with this guy. Just.. Innocently admiring. </p><p>(Or the one where Zayn isn't entirely satisfied with his relationship with Harry and Louis is one hell of an attractive father.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It's not that Zayn is _unhappy_ with his semi-boyfriend of seven months taking him out to his birthday, except he is.   
  
Originally, he had been fine with going to the cinema and spending the night over at Harry's place, but that had been before seeing the movie that the younger lad was taking him to.. _Again_.   
  
In just the last two weeks alone, they have seen Paddington four times. _Four_. And whereas it had been cute the first time, it definitely hadn't been so much the second.. Or the third.. Or the fourth and probably won't be after the fifth either, but alas, Zayn moves into the theater behind the curly-haired lad anyways.   
  
The thing is, Zayn isn't even sure what they are doing to begin with because he hadn't exactly wanted to go out, but Harry almost never wants to stay in. He has this theory of sorts that people who stay inside for too long tend to lose out in life experiences. Zayn has a completely different theory and he calls it " _keeping his sanity in check_." Something Harry doesn't seem to understand that much because he never has to worry about it.   
  
Harry's more.. _Energetic_ , to put it nicely, than Zayn is and at first, that had been what drew the English Lit major in. It had been the cute smile and the ridiculous puns and jokes that made Zayn laugh at two in the morning while on the phone with a drunk Harry. Not to mention, Harry is incredibly charming and can have anyone wrapped around his finger with just a flashy grin and wave of his hand.   
  
Though, as time goes on, he's finding himself feeling like he is more _babysitting_ Harry than actually attempting to date the boy; the same boy that ever rarely kisses him because it doesn't " _cross his mind_ " and the same boy who won't sleep with him because he isn't ready, which is fine.

Zayn is a patient lad and he knows for some people, sex isn't really a want or even necessity, but for him? He can be a very sexual person. He likes the intimacy and the closeness sleeping with someone he cares for gives him.   
  
With a roll of his eyes, he ends up pushing those thoughts away though as he moves to follow Harry down the row he wants to sit in. It's always the same; in the middle of the lower section. Harry says it's the best view and that he can see everything without a distraction. Zayn's convince the boy is going deaf and blind and can't experience it anywhere else.   
  
He doesn't say these things as he takes his seat.   
  
"Are we going to watch this movie again, Harry?" He asks with a sigh. In one hand, he has his bag of popcorn (with extra butter and bag of M&Ms between his fingers to mix and eat with) and his other holds his drink while attempting to pull down the center divider to put his drink in the holder. Luckily, Harry is such a gentleman and pulls it down for him before getting comfortable himself.   
  
"Sure, why not?" Harry hums innocently. Zayn almost hates just how sweet the boy can sound when not thinking anything is wrong with what he is doing. It's almost childlike (hence the " _babysitting_ " comment above) and it makes Zayn wonder sometimes if Harry is really on the same level as him.   
  
He figures he has to somewhat be if the green-eyed boy is gearing up to go into law school, but outside of those lectures and endless hours of studying, Harry is five inside that head of his.

Outside, he's twenty-two, leaving Zayn at the new twenty-four as of a couple hours ago.   
  
"But not _this_ movie again," he tries to protest, but his arse is already forming itself to the red padded seat below him. Already, he's tempted to get his phone out to answer a couple texts, maybe find out if there is some emergency that can take him away from this failed cinema date. He would have been able to force himself through it if maybe Harry would give him a little something (a kiss on the cheek, the holding of his hand, maybe even the clichéd " _arm around the back of his chair_ " thing), but he knows he won't get it because Harry always gives the same answer. “ _There are children around, Zee_.”

  
It's not like they're playing inside each other's pants. Just _holding hands_ , jeez.   
  
"But I love Paddington," he hears Harry hum and that's all Zayn needs to know that he is stuck here for the next hour and a half.

To be honest, he isn't even sure he knows what the movie is entirely about because his mind is always getting distracted by other things.   
  
The lights lining out the walkways.   
  
The designs on the wall.   
  
The person in front of them that is so rudely on their phone with a bright screen.   
  
The handsome older man moving in to sit right next to him and—   
  
Wait, _what_?   
  
Zayn can't help but turn his head slightly to the man sliding into the chair just beside him. He's beyond handsome with his barely messy hair and nice button down. The sleeves are rolled up a little to almost his elbows and Zayn can just barely make out the ink lying under the material. He's nearly drooling at the thought alone as he watches from the corner of his amber eye.

What he isn't expecting though, is a much smaller boy moving to wiggle in right next to the older man (maybe twenty-eight? Twenty-nine? Could be thirty, he supposes). He's got bright blonde hair and blue eyes, just like man’s eyes, who is helping him up into his seat. Both their eyes are so bright that Zayn can tell their color distinctively even in the dimmed light. Not that he is complaining, but he figures if anyone ever had the power to read into his head, they would have second hand embarrassment and how much he is focused on this man.  
  
"Hop up, buddy," he hears the stranger murmur and yeah, Zayn's pretty sold on him already. His voice is raspy, slightly tenor, and he has an accent almost as thick as his, but not quite. It isn't too deep, not like Harry's anyways (which sounds like it could be a ship horn from time to time, but again, he's not complaining), but it isn't as high as this man's son (he's assuming).   
  
"It's too tall! M'too little!" The boy huffs cutely. Zayn can't explain why the smile that graces his lips at this childish pout feels like poison, but it does. Especially, when Harry's shoulder bumps into his to get his attention back to being centered on him.   
  
"Nick's throwing a party this weekend. He just texted me. Want to go?" Harry asks. His extra large bag of popcorn is settled between his thighs and he's got his iPhone resting in his hands as he types something out to the boy Zayn really can't stand.   
  
It's reasonable why he doesn't, either, he suspects. Nick is older, a little more hands-y, but not in the " _I feel like I need to get a restraining order against you for sexual harassment_ " way, but in the way that Zayn is bitter that Nick is more willing to hold his hand when drunk than Harry is. Though, it's his flirting with Harry that really makes him mad because Harry is _his_ boyfriend-ish person. Not Nick's.   
  
Nick also has a habit of making fun of Zayn for being so quiet and " _broody_ " and really, his patience level is too low to put up with someone like Nick when he has class starting up again just next week.   
  
"I'm not sure, Haz," he whispers. "I have to get my books this weekend and pray that they are all right this time with the one my professors told us to get. Last semester they got _two_ of my books wrong and I was a week and a half behind."   
  
"I'm sure you're fine. What are the odds that it would happen again? Two semesters in a row?"   
  
"What were the odds of getting two wrong in the _same_ semester?"   
  
"Fair point," Harry murmurs as he sends a text off and then slides his phone up under his thigh. It's a common hiding place for the younger lad. There's the convenience of it not having to shine up and show people who he is texting, but it's also easy access to get to when he feels a message come in and wants to respond.   
  
Zayn doesn't know why it bothers him so much that Harry sometimes doesn't want him to know the conversations he has.   
  
It particularly bothers him when it is _Nick_ , but again, he stays quiet.   
  
Harry falls silent, surprisingly, once his phone buzzes again and Zayn has to bite his tongue in order to tell him it's _his_ birthday and they are suppose to be celebrating, but he doesn't. Deep down, he knows Harry doesn't mean any harm and he's just a social butterfly, but it is something Zayn doesn't entirely understand because just being here and sitting next to strangers exhausts him. It's draining on a level he can't even explain because it shouldn't be happening that way.   
  
He's just sitting here, in a semi-dark theater, not even talking to anyone and already he feels like he could sleep for four hours. With a small sigh, he leans his head back against the seat and tries not to think about how bored he is already when the film hasn't even started.   
  
"Papa, candies," the boy down the way from him mumbles cutely. When Zayn glances over to them, he can see the blonde boy making grabby hands at his father (suspicions confirmed). It's cute, much like when Harry is whiney and needy because he needs snacks for studying case after case and law after law because " _my brain can only go so long without substance_." The difference is though, Zayn doesn't have to tear the corner off of Harry's candy bags because he is twenty-two and this kid looks to be three or four, at best.   
  
"You can have these ones for now, but we're saving the chocolates for when the movie starts, okay, bud?" The stranger says to the kid, who doesn't seem to have any trouble agreeing to that deal as he pops a bright colored orb into his mouth and chomps down.   
  
It only takes a few more minutes before the lights are dimming and the curtain over the screen is being drawn up to expose the the rest of it, but Zayn's checking out before the previews even start to flash into view. Harry's already sucked into the motion of the lights in front of him, conversation with Nick long forgotten, as he waits in anticipation for the film to begin. The chatter has died down and children are gasping as they watch previews for things they will surely beg their parents to see in just a few short weeks.   
  
The boy one seat over is, at least, as he glances up at the stranger with his smaller hand on the forearm of his father. His eyes have gone wide and his lips are parted as he has this silent conversation. One they must both understand because the father just chuckles and shakes his head before breathing, "of course we will see that, too, Ni."   
  
After that though, Zayn's mind is elsewhere as he counts how many people are in each row, the number of books he has to read this semester, how many stores he will have to go to today to find the paints he is looking for, and does he need a journal? Maybe a new pen, too. It is a new semester and his writing has improved since he started again a few months ago. Maybe he can splurge a little and get one of those journals with the planner in front. Two birds, one stone (a phrase Harry hates because " _why would anyone want to throw a stone at a bird?_ ")   
  
A gasp from his right grabs his attention and it doesn't take a genius to know it's Harry's. His is very distinctive and it comes with a breath of, " _Zayn, did you see that?_ " Which really, how is this boy still surprised about seeing the bear on the screen when they have seen this so many times already? He is pretty sure Harry could recite it in his sleep backwards if he was asked.   
  
_'It's going to be the worst birthday ever, but this guy beside me is really hot, so today isn't that bad_ ,' he thinks to himself and yes, he is aware that Harry is trying to hold his attention and he's over here drooling over some strange that is probably more than five years older than him, but he can't help himself.   
  
It's not like he's fantasizing of sneaking off into the bathroom with this guy. Just.. _Innocently admiring_.   
  
"Papa, look! Paddington!" The boy gasps, just as Harry had and somehow, the boy doing it warms his heart more than Harry's act of it, which really doesn't make sense. He loves Harry, he does, but he is past that age. They both are and this movie is cute to see once, but it's a little childish to see more than that. Especially, while it is still in theaters.   
  
"Yes, Niall, Papa sees it," the older lad whispers before leaning over to press a kiss to the boy, _Niall's_ , hair. Zayn isn't going to admit how jealous he is; he’s _definitely_ not going to admit to the fact that he’s jealous because this man is giving the kiss to his son and Harry won’t even kiss him on the cheek.

  
The movie ends eventually though and sadly, Zayn can't feel more relieved because of it. He's usually one of the first to stand up and grab his trash so he can walk down the row to leave the theater, but as a good date, he waits for Harry to gather his own things and stand himself. Zayn most certainly does not count the seconds in his head, not when Harry is smiling at him and moving a hand to hold Zayn's hip. _Instantly_ , the dark-haired lad's stomach is swarming with butterflies and warmth.   
  
"Have a good time?" Harry asks as they walk down the row and filter into the walkway. Zayn hates the way he side glances back to see the man he sat next to the entire time and he sees him reach down to slide his boy onto his hip as Harry's arm moves to curl around his waist to escort him out.

  
"It wasn't bad," he replies as he does every time. “Want to hit the bathroom before we go?"   
  
"I, uh.. Probably should, yeah," his boyfriend hums before taking them over to the bathroom. Zayn can't stop the frown that appears on his expression the moment Harry's arm is gone and he is slipping inside the bathroom. Neither can he hide it when suddenly, there is popcorn pouring over him when his shoulder his bumped and the same boy from earlier is tilting over strong arms with a giggle.   
  
"Oh god, I'm so sorry," a voice mumbles and the moment Zayn looks up, that warmth is back in his stomach. It's the older man from the movie. "He gets a little too animated when being held and doesn't exactly look around him when talking with his arms," he continues before putting Niall down and reaching for a napkin.   
  
Zayn wants to be upset because this is his favorite leather jacket, but he simply can't be when the man reaches forward to try and get some of the popcorn off him and even the butter. It's very father-like and charming in Zayn's mind.   
  
"I.. It's okay. It was just an accident, yeah?" Zayn tries to chuckle under his breath as Niall reaches up to slide his little fingers into his father's belt loops to hold onto him.   
  
"M'sorry, sir.. Didn't mean to!" Niall chirps desperately.   
  
"It's alright, buddy.. I can just get a new jacket. It's no worry," he says, but it's not like he has the money for it. Not to get a new one any time soon, anyways, and his heart is a little crushed. But looking at those blue eyes watch him so nervously? It makes him pretend it's all okay. He's only a child.   
  
"I can get this taken to the cleaners. My guy is great, really, and he can make it like no butter ever got on the leather," the man continues once all the popcorn is off him and his jacket has been wiped as much as possible. How much butter did the child need? Where was Harry to give a lecture on how bad excess butter was when Zayn needed him?   
  
"And how would I get it back?" Zayn asks. Politely, of course, but he's slightly skeptical.   
  
"As nice as your jacket is, love, I'm not about to go and steal it. I probably wouldn't look half as great in it anyways," the man charms and that drool from earlier is making a comeback. Zayn has to fight hard just to keep himself in check so he doesn't _blush_ towards the stran— "I'm Louis."   
  
"I'm.. Zayn," he gives back, feeling a little awkward now. How long does it take to go for a piss?   
  
"How about I give you my card, you give me a call when you're free, and we'll take good care of your jacket," Louis offers and Zayn wants to say no (and really, _really_ wants to say yes), but this jacket is his life. It has character and his father gave it to him as a graduation present, which is why he slowly nods his head and gives a small smile.   
  
"Okay.. Okay, that seems fair," he accepts before reaching out to take the card being offered to him reading _'Louis Tomlinson - owner/founder_.'   
  
"Papa, getting dark!" Niall breathes against Louis' thigh, making Zayn turn his head to look out the window where the sun is no longer shining.   
  
"You're right, baby," Louis says before glancing back up at Zayn and giving a small smile. "I'm free to take calls almost everyday, but you might want to take that in tomorrow if you're not busy. Just in case. I'm really sorry, again."   
  
Zayn wants to swoon from how apologetic this guy is over his _jacket_ of all things and that's what always gets him into trouble because soon he is humming, "I'll call you tomorrow."   
  
Louis disappears before Harry comes back up and Zayn is thankful because he doesn't want to have to explain why he is holding the number from another lad. Not that he is doing anything because it wasn't like they set up a date. He was just getting his jacket fixed and that man was taking responsibility for his son, right? So there was nothing wrong with accepting to get his favorite possession taken care of.   
  
But it sure feels like there is when the entire ride back to his dorm is spent thinking about blue eyes and a five o'clock shadow that Harry wouldn't be caught dead sporting.


	2. Chapter 2

Dinner at Harry's the night before had been good, better than the movie, but still not what Zayn had been expecting.  
  
Harry had driven him back to his dorm and came in for a quick drink, where they sat on the couch and their hands mingled for a little. There had even been some cuddling as Harry curled his arm around his shoulders and pulled him into his chest and it wasn't what Zayn had been looking for, but it was comforting nonetheless.  
  
The problem is; he is a _physical_ being. He likes holding hands or placing a hand on his partner's thigh just to have the touch there and he loves stolen kisses when they are out. He's all about being close to a person, not quite sex all the time, but _intimacy_ all the same. So, it's slightly hard to understand how Harry can go without it a lot of the times, but when he springs for it, it makes Zayn feel a million times better.  
  
However, Harry hadn't stayed for long and the kiss against his cheek had been a nice _'goodbye_ ,' but it still left him cold and wanting as his semi-boyfriend left his dorm in favor of his own.  
  
But all things considering, Zayn feels as he wakes up the next morning in just sweats and a loose tank top that he can't complain. Harry had taken time out of his extreme studying (because someone was _lucky_ and got his books _early_ ) to take him out to a movie, even if it hadn't been one he wanted to see again, for his birthday. That is something normal couples do, right?  
  
Right.  
  
So, then why is his mind thinking back towards the older gentleman that had given him his card so that they could take care of his jacket that is slung around the back of the chair at his desk? Why is he thinking about bright blue eyes and tan skin that doesn't belong to Harry or scruff that makes him want to kiss just to know how it feels against his own skin? Whatever the reason, he figures it will pass. It's just a little school girl crush, surely.  
  
With one more glance around his room, Zayn pushes himself up from the bed and swings his leg over the edge. From this angle, he is faced with the window that is cracked open just enough to let a breeze in, but he's regretting the decision to do so now as he smells the snow outside and frowns.  
  
"You couldn't just wait until school started up again, could you?" He asks the white along his window sill with a heavy sigh. Not that the snow is all that bad, because really, it's beautiful. He loves everything about winter.  
  
He loves the hot beverages one can drink while holding in their mitten covered hands. He loves the smell of a burning fireplace when he goes back home to be with family over the holidays. Not to mention how happy everyone is because of this time of year, which always brings a smile to his face.  
  
He also loves having to curl up next to his partner to keep warmth while walking around when snow is falling. That is something Harry is good at; being a personal space heater as he curls his arm around Zayn's waist and keeps him pressed against his side.  
  
It's moments like that, that remind Zayn that Harry really, really isn't that terrible of a lover. They're just lacking some small little details, but Zayn loves him all the same.  
  
In thirty minutes, he gets a shower in, does his hair in a firm swoop above his forehead, gets dressed in some ripped, skinny, black jeans, a random, plaid button down, and some dark gray shoes. It's as he is walking back into his bedroom from the bathroom that he notices the jacket on the chair again and sees the card on the desk right next to it. Vaguely, he remembers the man from last night saying he should call today, but eleven-thirty on a Monday makes him wonder if he should just wait for lunch to roll around.  
  
He doesn't.  
  
He doesn't even hesitate as much as he thinks he should before grabbing his phone and sliding to unlock it so he can punch in the number on the card. As it rings, he briefly wonders if this number leads to his office, meaning a secretary would answer? Or maybe he answers his own work phone? That would be something Zayn wouldn't be expecting because don't all important people have someone answer their phones? He doesn't have to think about that for too long because soon he is met with the same voice from last night, causing his stomach to flip in ways it shouldn't.  
  
"Louis Tomlinson," he answers with and okay, Zayn has maybe said this name to himself about fifty times since last night, but that isn't important right now.  
  
"Hi, this is, uh.. The guy from last night? With the jacket?" Zayn starts with and already he wants to slap himself in the face. How smooth was that stutter? "And you gave me your card and told me to call and well.. I didn't know if now was okay? Or if I should have waited? Or maybe you don't even remember me? Which would make since because—"  
  
"Hello, Zayn," Louis chuckles into the line. Zayn has to drop himself onto the edge of his bed from how hard Louis' saying his name hits him. It sounds so beautiful.. Until he remembers this guy has a child and oh yeah, Zayn's got a boyfriend.  
  
"Hi," he ends up humming back softly, quietly, nervously.. "Is this a bad time?"  
  
"Not at all. You actually just caught me leaving a meeting. I'm just now walking back to my office," Louis says and okay, so this is a cell phone. A _personal_ phone. Zayn smiles to himself as he thinks about the number he possess right now, but then he realizes how everyone with this card has this number and suddenly it's not so special anymore. "How's your jacket holding up? Ready to take it to get clean?"  
  
"Wait, you mean right now?"  
  
"Well, unless you were going to ask me to lunch, then yes, right now," Louis teases lightly and Zayn can tell he means no harm by it. It actually makes Zayn feel a little lighter and easier about this conversation, but if his cheeks keep tinting colors they shouldn't be, he might have a problem.  
  
"Aren't you at work though? I don't want to inconvenience you for a jacket.."  
  
"You had to have called for _something_ , love," he hears and that makes the amber-eyed boy fall quiet for a moment. Yes, he had called for the jacket and that is the idea of having the number, so why is he being so weird about letting his guy keep his word on fixing it? How hard could it be just to meet up with Louis again and then drop the jacket at the cleaners?  
  
"It was for the jacket.. I just, um.. I don't want you to do it now if you don't have the time, y'know? I mean.. I can wait if you want for like.. A lunch break or something like that," Zayn scrambles and really, now he sounds even _worse_ than when he started this call.  
  
" _Zayn_ ," Louis breathes into the voice, voice much softer and even deeper than just a moment ago. Zayn can't explain it, but it brings a certain type of relief over his body as he relaxes and even breathes a little easier. "I can do it now, if you would like, and then we can get some lunch while we are out. Two birds, one stone," he continues and it's that last part that has Zayn smiling like a fool.  
  
"Lunch sounds great."  
  
After Zayn gets an address to meet Louis and hangs up without another stutter or awkward pause, he makes his way down to the street that runs along the front of the campus dorms. He has the money to call a cab, but at the same time, the snow looks rather inviting and it isn't like the cleaners is too far away, which is why he starts out on foot. There's music in his ears playing from his phone and his hands are tucked away in his coat pockets to keep warm while his leather jacket is tucked up under his arm, but there is no distracting him from visualizing what Louis will look like when he sees him again.  
  
It is  _nothing_ like he thought when he finally gets there.  
  
In his head, he had been picturing Louis wearing some three piece suit and tie, maybe some over the top fancy business shoes, but instead he is looking much like he had the night before. He's got those tight jeans on again and a button down that has the sleeves rolled up to his elbows with black suspenders keeping the fabric down against his chest and he has to wonder how someone that owns a company can go to work dressed like that. Not that he is complaining. It just makes it harder not to stare.  
  
He nearly trips over a curb doing just that.  
  
"You made it. I was starting to worry that I might have scared you away," Louis laughs as he reaches a hand to place on Zayn's bicep, probably to steady him from that near fall just a moment ago.  
  
"I'm more scared of you catching hypothermia. Aren't you cold?" He asks in return because _hello_ , this guy isn't even wearing a jacket and flakes of snow are falling from the sky.  
  
"My office and car are rather stuffy, so it's nice to feel the cold right now. Gives me a cool off." Fair enough. "But let's get more onto your jacket and how we can fix this," Louis continues as he uses his touch on Zayn's arm to maneuver him inside the building.  
  
It's not that fancy inside, which Zayn is thankful for because he isn't sure he fits in a place like that, but Louis doesn't seem fazed at all as he moves to talk to the man behind the counter and explain the incident from last night. There's a chuckle or two and Louis is taking fault before trying to appeal to the man's soft spot as he reaches for Zayn's jacket and explains the damage.  
  
The stranger glances over the fabric of the jacket and Zayn starts to get worried that Louis won't be able to keep his word about fixing this. Something that really, really can't be because he loves this jacket more than his first edition of _The Catcher in the Rye_ , which is saying something, but soon there is a nod coming from the man and Louis is smiling, but Zayn picks up the small sigh of what must be relief as he pulls his hands away from the leather piece.  
  
"I can fix it, sure. Give me two hours and it should be done," the man says and well, Zayn's pretty sure he is in love. With the cleaner or Louis, he isn't entirely sure, but he would let either take him to bed at this point because of how grateful he is that this jacket isn't ruined for life. Just for another hour or two.  
  
"Told you I could get it fixed," Louis hums as they step back out towards the street, moving over to a black town car, but Zayn has to stop in his tracks as he furrows his eyebrows. Especially, when someone is getting out of the driver seat to open the back door to them.  
  
"Wait.. You have a driver?" He asks and he feels so stupid because who is he to question this man? But suddenly every single kidnapped persons movie he has ever watched is flooding to his memory.  
  
"I work all day and that requires a lot of phone calls. It's not safe to drive and talk on the phone and it splits my attention on two things that need my full attention," Louis explains and okay, that makes sense. _A lot_ of sense, actually, and it's highly responsible and god, Zayn's going to need something to get him through these next two hours with this man.  
  
"I.. Yeah, okay. Sorry.."  
  
"It's okay, Zayn."

The town car is fancier than Zayn would have expected it to be, but not so bad that he feels uncomfortable and that if he touches anything, he would make it dirty. Believe it or not, he once felt that way in this beautiful gallery he went to for his art class and he never recovered from it entirely. Or so Harry says. Anyways, the car has sleek leather seats in the back and there is a nice carpet covering the floorspace of it. There's a mini fridge that looks to hold both regular water and then sparkling, in more than one flavor. There is nothing alcoholic though and that makes him feel better better about Louis as a person.  
  
"I was thinking we could head over to Max's Sandwich Shop," Louis says as he makes sure Zayn is buckled in after himself. There's a blush that tints Zayn's cheeks as he assumes that is also second nature to a father, but he keeps that to himself as he lets Louis speak. "It's just on Crouch Hill, which isn't too far away. It's really small, but I think you'll like it, if you've never been."  
  
"I haven't," Zayn replies back softly and it's nice, really. The car drives smoothly and Louis' talk is nice to hear because it's different and it's not all about law. Not that Zayn minds too much because law is interesting and Harry is fascinated with it, but he doesn't know much about it, so he doesn't know how to hold a conversation when discussing it.  
  
Louis is different in that sense. He talks about the sandwich shop at first before going into how he met his best mate there, who is now his business partner, Liam. Which flows straight into his business and wow, Louis heads an entire company with this man and he works really hard, but what gets him more is the look of pure admiration and happiness he gets talking about his company. Though, soon that turns into hobbies and interests and Louis is a big footie lad, watching the games every time his teams play and it breaks his heart that Niall shows no interest in it.  
  
Louis then turns around to say he'll support anything his son does and that makes Zayn's chest tighten with fondness.  
  
However, after about fifteen minutes, they are pulling up to a little shop with the name ' _Max's_ ' in bold, white lettering. As he gets out of the car, he notices the front walls are glass and have what looks like a little faux wooden fence inside it, but it's the inside that gives it that unique feel. It's small, like Louis had previously mentioned, but it's homey and cozy once they step inside. Bright colored tables and white tables cover the area and there's old photos on the walls of past customers and what is probably the owner.  
  
"Table for two, please," Louis says softly, snapping Zayn out of his concentration of scooping out the room. And in case Louis' amazing charm and ridiculously good looks weren't enough to stop Zayn's breathing, the hand on the small of his back escorting him to follow the girl with their two menus is.  
  
"Someone will be with you in a moment," she murmurs after they sit down, Louis going out of his way to pull Zayn's chair back before sitting across from him and wow, Louis' a gentleman. Not the kind of gentleman where he takes you out before trying to get you home with him, but the kind that treats you well the entire time no matter if you are his or not. Something that Zayn was so sure was dead until Louis does this. It's just one more thing added to the list of why Zayn needs to keep his distance from this lad because he is getting too appealing to him.  
  
"I like to come here on Fridays, usually. They have this special of fish and chips, it's grand. I'm not sure if you like that, but it's one of my favorite dishes," the older lad continues to speak as he opens his menu and looks down the list.  
  
"I like fish. Not as much as chicken, but it's definitely on the list," Zayn responds before picking up his own menu. There's a variety of sandwiches, some soups, great selection of beers that Zayn would go for if it wasn't noon on a Monday morning. Some sides look appetizing, but he isn't entirely sure what he is feeling at the moment. "Like, tuna. I think I'll have a tuna melt."  
  
"Hm.. That is a good choice. What's best is all sandwiches come with a pickle on the side, too, which is great with a tuna melt, in my opinion," Louis rattles off, but just as Zayn puts down his menu, he hears something that makes him cringe a little inside. "I think I'll have a grilled ham and cheese with chips," he says, which honestly makes Zayn pull a small face. "What? Do you not like ham?"  
  
"I, uh.. I don't mind other people having it, but I can't have it."  
  
"Allergic?"  
  
"Muslim," Zayn informs quietly and usually he's a little more careful who he says that out to because he knows not everyone is all that open minded about it. He knows people have their prejudices and Zayn feels the need to have Louis know he is more than just that. That he is more than what people think his religion is. That not all of them are bad and he worries for a moment as Louis seems to take a moment to process it. Zayn's just about to run out the door and never look back in fear of what will be said until—  
  
"You know what? I think I'm feeling roast beef more today. Maybe with a slice of swiss or provolone." And just like that, Zayn is in love. "What do you think, Zayn?" Louis asks and Zayn can't stop or even attempt to hide the smile that crosses his face when hearing that.    
  
"Sounds delicious."

And it had been. Zayn was pretty sure he had never had a tuna melt that amazing in his entire life, especially for such a low price, but there it was. It had stuffed him up to the brim as well as his cherry pop had. Overall, it had been a good time and Louis' company? It had only made things better as they talked about all sorts of things ranging from the politics in America to what single was a number one hit in Australia. Louis was so versatile in what he could talk about and give his thoughts on.  
  
It had been a lunch Zayn doesn't think he will forget anytime soon as he had been driven back to the cleaners and followed Louis in. Now is the moment of truth to see if his jacket has been fixed and he is holding his breath as the man walks back with Louis' ticket. His fingers are tapping against counter with anticipation, but soon there is a clean back being brought over and Louis is pulling the zipper down and Zayn's heart nearly stops.  
  
"Just as I told you," Louis smiles.


	3. Chapter 3

Louis shouldn't be the person that's on Zayn's mind right now, keeping him from looking over his new textbooks so he can be ready for his lectures coming up soon. The thought of bright blue eyes and tattooed tan skin should be left in the back of his mind in the file case labeled ' _never to be seen again_ ,' because that is what Louis is: never to be seen again.     
  
After Zayn had gotten his jacket back and Louis had drove him back to his dorm, they had parted ways without any hint that they would be meeting again. Zayn had been given a handshake that made his stomach flip and he had tried so hard to keep himself from blushing because this attractive man had touched him. It had even killed him when he heard the words, ' _you be good now. Goodbye, Zayn_ ,' because Louis saying his name was something he would _never_ get over.   
  
That was a week ago and Zayn is already having withdrawals from a man he doesn't even know anything, but his name, about.   
  
Okay, so maybe that's a lie because their lunch had given him a lot of details of Louis' life and how he went about it, but Zayn wants more. He wants to know more personal things and what his son's interests are. He wants to know how Liam and him created their company, whatever exactly it is, and he wants to know if Louis has other close friends.   
  
Invites other people to lunch.   
  
Is involved with someone.   
  
What his kisses taste like..   
  
" _No,_ " he groans at himself as he drops his head into his book and squeezes his eyes shut. He must look ridiculous, hands fisted against the table, face smashed in a book, thighs slightly crossed as he tries not to let his hormones get to him.   
  
It's not that Zayn hasn't gone through dry spells before and sees many attractive people all day long, because he has and he's done some very relieving things to himself to ease the trouble. It's just, he feels _guilty_ doing that while with Harry, knowing the boy isn't exactly into that, or doesn’t seem to be, and once again, Zayn doesn't mind. Harry is a wonderful boyfriend and treats him well, never making him feel like he has to give anything to stay.   
  
Which is why Zayn never expects Harry to give what he isn't comfortable with because that's how relationships work. It's a _give and take_ , but Zayn literally doesn't understand how they can be watching a movie, seeing some girl take off her shirt while kissing some boy and he's just.. _Unaffected_ . There's no movement in Harry's pants and his hand that runs through Zayn's hair doesn't falter one bit. He's completely calm and Zayn is so jealous of it.   
  
He's lucky if he can look at an attractive person and not have himself get a little worked up because they are fit. He's only human after all, which makes Zayn wonder just how much of an alien his lover is that he doesn't need things like that.   
  
He's teasing, of course, and he's happy with the soft touches and sometimes kiss to his cheek, so he's not really complaining that much. He just wants that closeness. He wants someone to touch his skin and make it feel like he is on fire. He wants to feel someone fall apart under him or lose himself against someone else. For now, that will have to wait though as he sees Harry come out of his bathroom in nothing but a towel wrapped around his slim waist. His hair is dripping just a little, falling over his shoulder and running down his chest until it hits the towel lower.   
  
The world is a cruel place for a boy like Zayn as his thighs squeeze tighter.   
  
"I'm glad Danny isn't here at the moment. He would probably complain that you're always running around shirtless in our dorm."   
  
"Before or after he got upset that you haven't eaten breakfast yet because your nose is in your textbook already?" Harry teases back in response before coming over. Zayn's sure his heart is going to give out the moment Harry is bending over to press his lips against his cheek. It's short-lived and soft, but it's what keeps Zayn going as he hums and turns his head into Harry's, risking going for an actual kiss. However, seeing as he was just thinking about Louis not too long ago, he controls himself and pulls away slightly.   
  
"How's your back? Did the shower help?" He asks as Harry pulls away to stand back up. When wet, his boyfriend's hair falls right past the tops of his shoulders, having lost some of its natural curl and wave. Zayn has no doubt that as it dries, the bounce will come back and he will be powerless against the look once more.   
  
"Much. The water pressure in your dorm is so much better than in mine. I might have to borrow it more often," Harry hums as he moves to sit in the chair beside Zayn and of course the towel shifts just a little and his boyfriend's skin is exposed more. Another groan passes through his lips as he turns his head back into his book.   
  
"I'm glad it can be of service to you. Are my massages not enough?"   
  
"Now, wait," he hears Harry frown, but Zayn is all smiles as he reaches his hand forward and cups Harry's cheek softly. "That's not what I meant," he continues, not quite seeing the joke yet as Zayn chuckles and rubs his thumb along the boy's cheekbone.   
  
"I'm teasing, Haz. I'm happy our shower helps you out. We really should look into getting you a new mattress and you can just stay with me for a bit," Zayn offers and it's not completely out of the blue. They stay at each other's place quite a few times during the week, usually more Zayn at Harry's than the other way around, but it's a comfort to have Harry close.   
  
Cuddling is a swell thing for him.   
  
"That would actually be really nice, if you don't mind. Or Danny. I wouldn't want to put you guys out just because I have a shit mattress," Harry says and Zayn's heart grows about fifty times in his chest when he feels Harry lean in his face further into Zayn's palm. Yes, _this_ is why he loves this boy. This is why he is still here.   
  
"You couldn't never put us out. The amount of times you have made us dinner because we have been studying or just too lazy makes up for you staying here for awhile so you can get a new mattress," Zayn murmurs and he means it with every word. He may be sexually pent up and frustrated, but he is so spoiled by Harry.   
  
He's a generous lover in all aspects outside of their non-existent bed.   
  
Zayn lets Harry go a moment later, watching him disappear into his room as he tries to focus back into his _Children's Literature_ textbook, but his mind is whirling again. Though, this time it's even worse than before. His mind goes from how he imagines Louis would kiss him, to how Harry actually kisses him, to what it would be like to kiss them both at once. Another groan leaves his lips once more as he sighs and brings his hand to run through his hair.   
  
It isn't cheating to fantasize, right? It isn't like he could ever act on his desire to press his hands against Louis' chest and breathe his name as low as he can while—   
  
No. Nope. _Never_ . Not today.   
  
"Harry?" He finds himself calling as he officially crosses his legs under the table. At least his groin can't be seen right now, granting him some relief, as he closes his eyes against the book pillowing his forehead.   
  
"Yeah?"   
  
"Do you maybe want to go out?"   
  
"Hmm," Harry hums out loud in thought and against Zayn's better judgement, he moves himself up to head for his room. He almost wishes he hasn't though when he sees that Harry is now only in tight, black, boxer briefs that attach to the skin of his thighs so well. It's rather unfair how fit this lad can be, making Zayn have absolutely no strength against it, but doesn't even use it to his advantage.   
  
Does Harry realize he could practically get Zayn to do whatever he wanted with his looks? With his smirk alone, Zayn dies a little inside.   
  
"Uh.." He practically chokes out as Harry holds up two shirts and faces Zayn, holding them at his sides. Harry's abs are so unbelievable he wonders how he has survived seven months with this boy already. "Are you asking which one? Because I like the black, lacy, button up more."   
  
"Good choice," Harry agrees before putting the white one down and going to slide the first shirt over his arms. Zayn thinks it's rather casual, and kind of intimate, that he walks closer and reaches his hands out to start buttoning Harry's shirt for him. This is something he knows Harry is okay with. It's something Zayn has been given permission to do that no one else does and he takes it seriously as his fingers start from the middle of the shirt and work down. "Where did you want to go, love?"   
  
"I was thinking maybe we could grab some coffee and go to the bookstore. I know you've been looking for something new for downtime," Zayn offers. His amber eyes stay trained on the buttons, slipping in _one, two, three_ before smoothing out the shirt. Maybe he lets his hands linger a little long on Harry's abdomen before gesture for Harry to put his arm out. He does.   
  
"That actually sounds really nice."   
  
"I was hoping so."   
  
After Zayn finishes folding up both of Harry's sleeves, not needing to remind himself this time that he is committed to Harry (he thinks) and happy where he is, he gets a kiss to his nose from Harry before a squeeze on his hip.   
  
"Going to help me with my pants, too?" His boyfriend teases, but Zayn shows him up fondly as he reaches for the darkest blue, skin tight jeans.   
  
He's honestly surprised that Harry lets him slide the material up each leg, getting it fastened around his hips, before buttoning up his jeans and leaving it at that. He's also surprised (and even a little ego-bruised) to see his efforts of trying to be cheeky have done nothing to this boy. Not even when his hands had lingered on Harry's thighs as well and hell, Zayn had literally been on his knees.   
  
_Nothing_ .   
  
He swallows a little thickly as he stands back up and watches Harry turn away to try and find what boots he wants to wear today. He chooses some worn brown ones that he still makes look good somehow, but Zayn's thoughts are slightly elsewhere.   
  
Maybe it isn't that Harry is unaffected by what Zayn does because he doesn't want it. No, he's starting to think that maybe it's _him_ , himself, that just doesn't push the buttons Harry wants. Maybe he is missing something, something that really interests Harry, and him being the shit boyfriend he is, isn't picking up on that.   
  
' _No,_ ' he tells himself firmly. ' _Harry adores you. He wants to around. He likes what you two have. That's why you get to dress him. That's why you get to kiss him. That's why he is always making sure you eat and sleep_.'   
  
Yeah, that is it. He knows it and all that doubt shoves to the side of his head as he feels a hand find his hip again and Harry is guiding him softly towards the door.   
  
"Ready?"   
  
——   
  
Zayn should be use to it by now; Harry not giving public displays of affection, but it still makes Zayn sigh as his fingers twitch near Harry's.   
  
So close, yet so _far_.   
  
However, Harry seems happy as he runs his opposite hand's fingers over the spines of books, reading titles and skimming authors. Harry's not nearly as much of a reading snob as Zayn is (something Zayn doesn't entirely understand, but it's refreshing nonetheless), which means they are in the more creative and modern side of fiction as opposed to the classics Zayn sticks with.   
  
Where Zayn reads _Don Quixote_ and  _The Great Gatsby_ , Harry is more into Dean Koontz and Stephen King. He loves the slow horror and keeping himself awake at night as he sometimes holds Zayn to his chest as he sleeps. He likes things that are with the time, like cell phones and fast cars, probably because it makes more sense to him. He can almost imagine himself in the story.   
  
Zayn thinks it's cute when Harry does lose himself in it, too. His nose crinkles up just so and he makes these small gasps when things get intense, forcing his chest to tighten up in surprise. Sometimes, Harry even reads in the bath and gets spooked, so he has Zayn sit there with his back against the tub, studying his notes as Harry's fingers run through his hair.   
  
Sometimes, there are not enough bubbles to keep Zayn's sanity in check.   
  
"Looking for anything in particular?" Zayn chirps as he watches Harry's eyebrows furrow once more. _77 Shadow Street, Intensity, Odd Thomas_ , none seem to be grabbing Harry's fancy as he continues down the line. Probably because he's read most of these and Zayn is itching to try and get Harry into another author, but he's in love. Zayn definitely understands _that_ .   
  
"Not really. I was hoping that when I got here, something would jump out at me, but nothing is really coming to me."   
  
"You know, H.G. Wells has a good one. It's called _The Invisible Man_ . A little older, I know, but I think you would like it and it has a little bit of science fiction in it," Zayn tries and okay, his self-control is seriously lacking some days.   
  
_Most_ days.   
  
"Why do I feel it's more science fiction than horror?" Harry chuckles after a moment, but not to make Zayn feel bad. Zayn knows Harry never judges him for his reading choices, just accepts that they are different and moves on. Zayn still feels a little funny though as he sighs and looks down.   
  
"It is.. He's a scientist that wants to find a way to make the body transparent, but when he puts it into effect on himself, he can't exactly undo what he has done."   
  
"Is it like a series? Like _Odd Thomas_?" Harry asks and the fact that he seems to really be considering it makes Zayn's heart swell again.   
  
"No, it's actually shorter than most novels. It's a _novella_ , really. Probably because it was first published in the newspaper. Isn't that amazing, Harry? Imagine reading part of a novel in the _newspaper_ ," Zayn cheers softly, eyes growing wide as he snaps his head back up to Harry. The smile he sees there makes him feel so much better for suggesting it.   
  
He can sees the mental contemplation Harry has about it and he expects it. Harry reads the same six or so authors and never really branches out unless it is by sheer chance, but he seems to really be interested in this one, making Zayn more and more excited as each second passes. It's not like Zayn _needs_ him to read the book, no, because he can read his own classics and talk about them to himself, sometimes Danny, who never knows what he is talking about, but if Harry read it, then maybe Zayn and him could discuss it. Maybe Harry would come a little into his world, something Zayn really wishes would happen sometimes.   
  
So, one could imagine the sheer bliss that covers his expression when Harry nods slowly and smiles at Zayn with a soft, "alright. I'll give it a shot."   
  
It shouldn't mean this much to him that Harry is willing to read one of his books, and his hands shouldn't be shaking in anticipation as they glance and search through the shelves to find it, but it does. It's even better when Harry doesn't pull a funny or judgmental face when he finally sees the blue cover. No, instead he just turns the paperback over to read the small description it has to offer. It takes what feels like forever, but is probably only about thirty seconds, before Harry is tucked it up under his arm and glancing at Zayn once more.   
  
"Did you get your book?" Just like that, Harry asks him something so.. So _simple_ and Zayn's smile is growing because Harry's getting the book. He's got it in his grasp and he isn't second guessing or continuing to look around like Zayn's choice is so terrible. No, he's making sure Zayn has his book, and he does.   
  
" _Oliver Twist_ ," he hums proudly as he holds up his book between his fingers with his head cocked to the side.   
  
"But you have that one already, love. Do you really want a new one?"   
  
"Yes, I do, but see," Zayn says as he starts to turn so they can make their way towards the front of the bookstore, "my copy is all torn. I've read it so much and I'm pretty sure there is a coffee stain in one of the corners that makes the pages stick together. I need a new copy."   
  
Harry's fond laugh is warm and smooth, like how Zayn imagines melted gold would feel.   
  
"Then by all means, you must let me get this one for you. You've already bought one, let me replace this one for you," his boyfriend offers and well.. It's not really an offer. Not when the book is being plucked from his fingers and placed down onto the counter besides his own while charmingly saying to the cashier, "together, please."   
  
‘ _Yes, Harry adores me_.’


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween!(:

_Zayn's stomached tightened as his fingers curled against Harry's shoulder tops, trying to keep his balance as his hips rotated over his boyfriend's. His breathing was choppy, barely getting air in and out as hands grabbed his hips and pushed up just enough for Harry's to roll up into his. The sound that came from Zayn's lips was probably the most unattractive he had ever heard himself be, but he couldn't be bothered to be focused on that when he was feeling this good._ _  
_ _  
_ _He was hard, not too uncomfortably so like when he usually was around Harry because this time he wasn't trapped in his jeans. He was naked in front of the younger lad and Harry's hands could touch and feel whatever they wanted. There was so much advantage that could be taken and used for either of their pleasures as Zayn closed his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows._ _  
_ _  
_ _It was a little odd to him that Harry was still half dressed, only having his shirt off, but that was enough to get Zayn going. Especially, when he had gone so long without being touched so intimately and okay, this had definitely been worth the wait. Harry's hand felt.. Indescribable against his skin and those lips attaching to his neck? He could die happy right here in this moment as one of his hands slid to press and hold over Harry's heart while the other slipped into his long hair. Soft curls found their way nuzzled in between the spaces of Zayn's fingers, tickling the skin as he ran his hand through the beautiful chestnut locks before—_ _  
_ _  
_ _"Fuck, Harry.." He gasped when teeth sank into his neck, making goosebumps raise over his skin. A shiver of pleasure ran down his spine before soon he was being flipped onto his back and opening his eyes. It was then that amber met cerulean and Zayn's heart stopped for the smallest moment._ _  
_ _  
_ _"Who's Harry, babe?" A different voice asked. One that wasn't so deep and raspy, but still as smooth and rich. One that still made his heart jump in his chest when he was suddenly being kissed and his eyes were closing once more. His hand moved to hold the man's cheek, pulling him in closer as his legs raised up. His knees touched bare skin against the other male's thighs, making him groan in satisfaction as he pushed his hips up to get some friction and—_ _  
_  
Zayn's body lurches up from his bed, hand over his heart and sadly, hardened cock under the fabric of his boxer briefs. He's thankful he can hear his boyfriend singing in the bathroom, meaning he isn't here to poke fun at Zayn's flushed appearance. Which is honestly embarrassing as he brings his hand up to run through his hair.  
  
Where had that dream even come from? There have been ones of him and Harry like that, of course, anyone who has ever seen that lanky, stunning, wannabe-runway-model probably has, but Louis coming up in the middle of that? He had been entirely caught off guard and he isn't sure where his mind had even come up with that.  
  
What upsets him most is the guilty feeling sitting in his gut as he thinks about how much he had enjoyed himself even after he saw Louis. How he had kissed him and even tried to get closer to him, but it had just been a _dream_ . It wasn't like Zayn had actually cheated, right? His subconscious had just been bored and being that intimate with Harry was unrealistic, so maybe it had just changed courses to make it more pleasurable.  
  
Except, wasn't Louis an unrealistic choice to fabricate up as well? He isn't confident about that either, but he pushes the dream out of his head as he gets up and moves to his bathroom.  
  
Harry had stayed the night before, helping Zayn get his books together and organize for the new semester and okay, maybe he had gotten a kiss last night from Harry. It had been short and sweet (and was probably what made Zayn fantasize about more just now), but it had been nice.  
  
_Perfect_ , even.  
  
He's under no impression that Harry does it on purpose, trying to slowly kill Zayn by doing things like surprise kisses, but sometimes he wonders if the boy realizes just how badly it makes Zayn want.  
  
"You're up," he hears once he steps inside the bathroom and turns to look at the mirror in front of him, which is directly across from his shower that holds the silhouette of his boyfriend on the other side. There's no new marks of passion against his neck, no sign of slight redness or bruises from being held on his hips, and really, he shouldn't be so disappointed, but he aches on anyways. "I thought you would be asleep until after I was gone."  
  
"Gone?" Zayn prompts, eyebrow raised in the mirror towards Harry, but the lad's too busy washing his hair to glance over at him. "Are you leaving so early? It's only-"  
  
"Noon," Harry chuckles as the sound of blobs of water hitting the shower bottom make their appearance. Zayn could wash Harry's hair. He could slide right into that shower and he knows the other wouldn't mind, but he doesn't. Not in this condition as he waits for his boner to disappear.  
  
"I didn't realize I had slept so long."  
  
"You seemed to have a little trouble sleeping last night," Harry hums and after a moment it's silent until, "is everything alright?"  
  
"Just worried about classes starting, I suppose. Where are you going though?" He asks instead, not wanting to think about him not being able to sleep or worse, Harry picking up on it. If Harry knew there was something wrong, he would mother hen him all day to make sure he smiled. Endearing, but not exactly wanted today.  
  
"Liam's throwing a party tonight and asked me to set up with him."  
  
"You didn't tell me."  
  
"You never want to go," Harry teases softly before soon the water is cutting off and Zayn watches a nice, toned, tattooed, and tan arm come out to reach for the towel across the shower door bar. Zayn focuses extremely hard on the toothpaste he is applying to his toothbrush in hopes this won't wake anything else up below the waistline.  
  
"What if I wanted to go this time?"  
  
"Do you?"  
  
A pause.  
  
Zayn thinks for a moment about those words and no, he doesn't particularly want to go. Parties here were all drinking games and dancing close enough that one could grope. Not to mention there were people there. Too many to allow Zayn to ever finally relax and settle in because he didn't know them. Of course, small talk was hard with those people. He wanted to talk about literature, beliefs from different parts of the world, sometimes even about his art, but everyone there either didn't care or was too drunk to.  
  
However, after Zayn’s little moment in his head this morning, the guilt is laying heavy on his mind and his stomach is churching a little from how upset he is with himself. He hadn't cheated, no, because it had been a dream, but he feels the need to remind himself that this, what he has with Harry, is where he is right now.  
  
This is where _all_ of him should be.  
  
He stays silent as Harry leaves the bathroom in a towel and he brushes his teeth a little too harshly for the first time in awhile. It's ridiculous, he knows, but he can't help but keep burying the grave he is going to throw himself down into if he doesn't control himself. Louis was there for a moment, to fix his jacket, and now he was gone.  
  
"I want to go," he says before he can back out. Harry's putting the now damp towel onto the bar once more and Zayn's half bent over to spit out the foam that had formed in his mouth from brushing. He really should get a new toothpaste because this one foams too fast and tastes like wet dog. Or what he assumed wet dog would taste like.  
  
"You're really going to come?"  
  
"You keep saying I need to get out there more and it's time that can be spent with you, isn't it? We'll get busy when semester starts again and I'll barely see you once you're back to slamming your face into law books."  
  
"Like you're any better with your Shakespeare," Harry teases again before coming over to the sink. Zayn rises slowly, moving to stand up again after having wiped his mouth and cleaned his brush, before he turns to look at Harry face to face instead of at his reflection. From here, Zayn can see the light freckles around Harry's nose, the gold flakes around his green irises, and even the way his dimple is still slightly visible as Harry gives this smirk that makes Zayn frown and want to punch him instead. "I'd like it, if you came."  
  
"Then I'll come," he promises.  
  
——  
  
He really, really should have been ready for the loud music that isn't exactly his taste or the girls that are practically half naked doing shots on the bars, trying to impress some of the boys checking them out. He should have been ready for the dim lights and rowdy atmosphere, but even if he told himself he had been, which he did, it still hadn't saved him from the headache that was already forming after being here only twenty minutes.  
  
After all afternoon of helping Liam with setup, getting drinks and snacks in order, making sure the breakables were put away, and getting a setlist ready to play through the night, Zayn had been exhausted enough. Even two people were enough to drain him out socially and make him want to sleep for fifty years. Which means that standing here now as his mate, Andy, chatters on about some bird he was trying to swing into dating him, he's ready to go home.  
  
The only thing keeping him from doing so is Harry's arm curled around the small of his back, hand on his hip, fingers drumming to the beat against his skin under his shirt.  
  
Harry looks.. _Beautiful_ , for lack of another word, tonight. He's got his dark blue skinny jeans on with some white tank top and a blue and green flannel over that. His boots are worn, but somehow look fashionable (something Zayn will never understand how) and his hair is styled up, looking like some prince out of a novel and Zayn is sure the girl in the corner with a Coke in her hand is thinking the same thing. Despite Zayn literally being in Harry's arm.  
  
It's uncomfortable at best, but Harry is excited, he's happy, Zayn can tell from the lightness in his voice and the way his chest rumbles when he laughs at Andy. It's enough for Zayn, honestly, to stay here and deal with his head when he knows Harry is thrilled to have him there at this party.  
  
He almost feels himself get just as excited when Harry takes a moment during Andy's rambles to whisper in his ear, "thank you for coming with me." It puts him on cloud nine, if he's being real with himself and immediately the smallest smile crosses his lips. He likes to think he's easy, that he just needs a little attention and he'll make it through, which is great with Harry because he seems to thrive off of giving attention.  
  
' _It's a balance_ ,' he tells himself. It's what has made these last seven months with Harry so nice, so why was his mind casually slipping to the older man from his dream this morning again after coming with Harry to this party? He's about ready to throw himself off the balcony that is connected to the slider door in hopes it will set him back straight.  
  
No pun intended.  
  
It's confusing and frustrating to think that before he even met that man, he hadn't ever looked another way for anyone else because he was happy with Harry. Things with Harry felt great and they were moving along. Maybe not in the way he had originally planned and Harry is definitely an unconventional lover, but he is a good one. He keeps his word and he treats Zayn like gold and if Zayn ever really needed him there, he knows Harry would drop everything to be there for him.  
  
And yet, he finds that guilty feeling growing in his gut as he turns his face to hide into Harry's shoulder, meaning his chest is pressed against Harry's side under the lad's arm. The only acknowledgement his boyfriend gives for the new position is his arm tightening to hold Zayn closer. Zayn could almost swear he feels lips brush against his hair, but he isn't entirely sure and instead lets it go as Andy gives this big laugh, making Harry chuckle back.  
  
"It's lucky you have Zayn then and don't have to worry about impressing anyone anymore," he says, making Zayn frown because Zayn's the lucky one. He has someone that doesn't judge him for wanting certain things or not liking coming to places like this. He's got it good with Harry.  
  
He hates himself a little more inside when thinking that.  
  
"I am lucky, aren't I? Just don't try to steal him or I might have to steal your car," Harry playfully warns back, but the hand on his hip holds a little tighter. Harry wants him and Zayn's thinking of another lad with blue eyes and soft brown hair.  
  
Not that he is constantly thinking about Louis. No, in fact, the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes he's thinking about one thing with Louis. He's thinking about skin on skin, lips brushing sensitive areas, hands holding down what isn't theirs. He's not thinking about how to date someone with a kid or the age difference that settles between them. It's physical, something he and Harry lack. He isn't thinking emotionally and that has to be a good sign, right?  
  
It is still cheating if he acts on it, he's aware. He isn't naïve enough to think otherwise, but he takes comfort in the idea that he isn't thinking about this so that he can leave Harry. No, he's thinking about it to fill a need and that makes him furrow his eyebrows a little before getting the worse idea he has ever came across.  
  
He pulls away from Harry slowly, which gets the boy's attention as he turns his face back into Zayn's and asks a soft, "everything alright?" But he just gives a smile and nods his head before pointing at the sliding glass door.  
  
"Going to have a smoke. Be right back," he hums. There's a new strumming pulse in his fingertips as he detaches from Harry and wiggles through the crowd of people gossiping around him. What it is, he's scared to find out, but it feels like anticipation.  
  
It feels like excitement.  
  
Luckily, he's the only one outside once he gets there, shutting the glass behind him to cut off as much of the music as he can. To keep true to his word, he pulls out his cigarette pack from his back pocket with his lighter and sets one between his lips to light in the cold air. Once the flame is burning, he returns everything back to its place before going for his other pocket to grab his phone.  
  
The number shouldn't have been there, he honestly meant to delete it and forget about it as soon as he could and yet, there it lies on his screen with the name ' _Louis Tomlinson_.' His thumb hovers over the contact with no photo, almost begging himself to back out of this thought before he ruins everything he has with Harry all because he's selfish.  
  
He doesn't.  
  
After another moment's hesitation, he presses the number and hits 'call' before he can say no. It rings once.. Twice.. Four times before finally there's a gruff and sounding, "hello?" on the other end. For some reason, the words he wants to ask fall short on his tongue and he feels like some high school girl with a crush that made an impulsive call before she makes the decision to just hang up. The only reason he doesn't is because he forgot the most important detail. "Zayn?"  
  
This guy also had _his_ number.  
  
"Hi," he whispers dumbly, making him take another drag from his cigarette in hopes it will calm his nerves. "I, um.. I'm sorry if this is late for you.." That earns him a soft laugh on the other end.  
  
"I'm thirty-one, not a hundred. I don't have a bedtime of ten-thirty," Louis teases and suddenly Zayn's chest feels light again. He hates that, too. "What's up?"  
  
There's another pause where Zayn considers coming up with a new topic, faking being bored and impulsive and Louis was the first one he felt fit to call, but that would have been a waste and Zayn's no chicken when he wants something.  
  
_Usually_.  
  
"Are you free this week?" He asks a little rushed, almost feeling the need to facepalm himself for being so forward. Especially, when it seems to be Louis who pauses this time.  
  
"I have my son." That sounds like a no and Zayn braces himself for the rejection. "But his mother picks him up on Friday night, so if you don't have plans this weekend, we could meet up," Louis offers instead and okay, that is better than Zayn had been expecting.  
  
"This weekend?" He questions and he sounds entirely too hopeful for this.  
  
"Yes. You know, that thing in between Friday and Monday?" The older lad teases and Zayn can't stop the breathy laughs that leaves him with the smoke from his last drag.  
  
"I know what the weekend is."  
  
"Oh, good. I was worried you had forgotten or something." His heart swoons and that grave just grows another foot deeper. "How about we meet Friday night for dinner. I know this really great place downtown that has all sorts of dishes. We could meet say.. Seven-thirty?" Louis asks and Zayn immediately stills for a moment. This hadn't been what he was asking for. He was hoping to land Louis in bed or something, but this sounded like-  
  
"Like a date..?"  
  
"Unless you'd rather skip the small talk and just meet at mine," Louis says after with a deeper voice and Zayn wonders just how transparent he really is. "I tend to.. Perform better once I've had a decent meal, but if you'd rather-"  
  
"I'll meet you for dinner. Seven-thirty," Zayn interrupts before he can even consider the consequences. Another foot deeper.  
  
"Then I'll see you then and Zayn?" Louis pauses as Zayn clings to the way the man says his name. "I'm glad you called."  
  
So is Zayn.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if I have stated this before, but the restaurants I use are real and are not of my own imagination.

The guilt gets worse over the next couple days.   
  
Zayn can barely stomach it as he lays in his bed, all bundled up in blankets, facing the window as he watches new snowfall. It's nice to see the white covering the ground and decorating the houses and knowing Harry, he'll want to go for hot chocolate. That is something Zayn is _always_ up for.   
  
Except, this morning the thought of putting anything in his stomach makes him feel like the shittiest person in the world. He knows he won't be able to keep it down and he has no one to blame, but himself.   
  
Here he is, this twenty-four year old lad, attempting to read every classic literature novel on the planet so that one day he will write his own, self-loathing himself because of what he has planned to do about his current situation. Not that it's unwarranted and he's not looking for sympathy because he knows he is wrong. He has no doubt that he is in the wrong by doing this, by agreeing to see someone else for dinner in hopes of going back to their place. Everything in his head is telling him this is the worst idea in the world and that he should call and cancel with Louis immediately, but he doesn't.   
  
That is what confuses him the most.   
  
If he's this upset about it, this self-aware that it's the worst thing he could do, this bothered with something he doesn't even understand why he wants, he should do something about it. He knows he should talk to Harry, get things out in the open, and see where that leads them. He knows he should be honest with Louis, admit that he is seeing someone and has for the past seven, almost eight, months.   
  
He knows this and yet, he is still laying in bed and not picking up his phone to do any of it.   
  
As a heavy sigh leaves him, he rests there for a few moments before turning around and facing his desk instead. There he sees his leather jacket and frowns to himself. His Baba would be so disappointed in him if he had seen the lad his son had turned into, he is convinced.   
  
With that thought though, he thinks about his family. Maybe going back for a weekend or two soon would be nice, might even help him out of his head, and he misses the girls more than he could put into words.   
  
It doesn't take much to persuade him that, that is the way to go. Possibly next weekend before semester gets too intense and he forgets to do something as simple as calling them. He remembers last semester when his mother called him in the middle of his midterms and asked if he was alright, if he was eating, sleeping, and making sure he was taking showers. When he had informed her that he had been struggling with that, but still trying to take good care of himself, he had asked her why she was worried.   
  
Turned out he hadn't called in two and a half weeks and she was concerned for his mental state again.   
  
Which he knows he can get bad about if he doesn't focus on himself enough. He sleeps far too often sometimes, losing track of time, and when he is stressed, he doesn't eat. Instead, he crams himself into his textbooks and tries to absorb every piece of information he can, praying it sticks.   
  
Harry's told him before that he tends to look more like the walking dead the three weeks that surround midterms and finals, which should be concerning enough, but the lanky lad finds ways to make it not so concerning. Zayn's only been with Harry since the middle of his summer session, meaning the boy was there for the end of the summer and his entire fall semester as well, and already he has picked up little things to help.   
  
He'll subtly slide hot chocolate and biscuits towards him when he is studying at the table, sneak sprays of dry shampoo into his hair when he wakes up too late and has to rush to class, or he'll curl Zayn up in a blanket when he is on the couch with messy clothing and hair sticking up in all directions, knowing the warmth with eventually make him pass out.   
  
Zayn's grateful for it and it makes him smile thinking back on it, but that makes the guilt burn in his gut as he groans at himself miserably.   
  
"He deserves someone better than you, Zayn. You're ridiculous," he whispers to himself before finally pushing himself up.   
  
He had his first classes this week and seeing as today was Friday, that meant he had about an hour to get up, shower, dress, manage to shove something down into his stomach, and make it to class before half past ten arrived. Already, he is struggling with the getting up part, but hearing Danny up and around moving makes him a little stronger in willpower as he shoves the blankets off himself slowly to sit up.   
  
"Danny?" He calls while stretching his arms and yawning as he does so.   
  
Their dorm isn't too big, just two bedrooms with a small living area for guests, but it's bigger than the usual dorm room seeing as they are juniors in UNI and Danny has that kind of money. Something that intimidates Zayn just a little, but he lets it slide because Danny never rubs it in his face. He just tells Zayn a number to pay in rent and he does so, but he knows he doesn't even pay half. He's aware and Danny obliviously knows it as well.   
  
They have wood flooring, meaning Zayn has to wear socks everywhere to keep warm, and their walls are the standard white with no border designs. However, he's got some cork-boards up on his walls where he pins down his train tickets home, pictures with his family, class syllabuses, flyers for things he says he will attend, but in the end, never does. He's got his AA in Liberal Arts framed on the wall, his only real accomplishment he feels since starting here three years ago. He had been hoping by now his novel would be done, maybe being edited, but it still rests half finished on the Macbook Pro that is set on the desk under the biggest cork-board.   
  
He's lucky enough to have a tall and narrow window that opens up without a screen and he's got a decent sized cubby in the wall where he has a small dresser to hold his clothing and a bar above to hold what needs to be hanged. He shares a bathroom with Danny, but it's not so bad because between the two of them, there's barely a mess. Mostly because Harry so kindly picks up his room every now and then when Zayn seems to be lost in his studies or is sleeping until noon again.   
  
The shower has no tub, which he doesn't completely mind because he doesn't have the time for a bath anyways unless he is at home, which he then takes full advantage of. There's a nice mirror that covers the wall above the two sinks and sometimes it can be Zayn's worst enemy because he'll either see how much sleep he has gotten or how little he has been eating. That's usually when the calls from his mother come in and he hates the way he downplays how bad things are sometimes.   
  
"Running late! Coffee's on the counter, breakfast's in the microwave!" He hears be shouted before soon there is a door slamming and Zayn is left alone with his thoughts once more.   
  
Eventually, he pulls himself up and he makes his way to the bathroom like he always does. His shower is much too long, meaning dressing needs to be quick and not lazy like usual. He takes the coffee because it's warm and fast, but leaves the chocolate chip muffin in the microwave with a small smile because he could have gotten a worse roommate slash best mate.   
  
His class is only about a ten minute walk away that Zayn takes his time on as he sips his hot beverage and listens to the way his black boots crunch the thin sheets of ice under his feet. Today is his easy day, though, meaning he only has his Fictional Novel Writing course, which he could do in his sleep. This makes his day slightly more appealing and while he is in class, he finds himself distracted, allowing no room for thoughts of Louis to creep into his mind.   
  
He's so distracted with his four hour lecture and working on his homework once he gets back to his dorm that he doesn't even know time flies and before he realizes it, it's nearly forty-five minutes past five.   
  
For the briefest moment, he considers not getting dressed into something nicer and instead working on this five-k short story that has already written half of itself. He wonders if Louis would honestly be bothered if he didn't show up, if he would call or text to find out if he was on his way. He entertains the idea of the handsome older gentleman waiting for him for one hour, maybe even two? No, Zayn isn't worth waiting around that long for.   
  
He debates a little longer, six minutes at most, before once again he is pulling himself for his bed and going to his wannabe closet.   
  
"Just see how it goes. If it feels wrong, I'll stop, and if it goes well.." He pauses when frowning at himself. He shouldn't be thinking like that at all, but he is and suddenly he wills his mind to shut up and leave him alone for the next couple hours.   
  
By the time he gets ready and is walking out the door, he's got his best, black, skin-tight jeans on and some shirt he isn't entirely sure is washed, but it doesn't smell bad, so he rolls with it. His boots are the same from this morning and he grabs his leather jacket that holds his keys, wallet, and phone before heading out. He's only been out of his dorm for two minutes before he gets a text with an address and all at once, everything feels too real.   
  
His anxiety is bubbling at the surface and his stomach once again feels it can't hold food, which he hasn't really given it all day. He feels that lightheaded nervousness again as he stares at the text and he hates himself a little more.   
  
Why was he doing this?   
  
Why was he locking his phone without responding, but heading towards the bus anyways to get a ride? Why was he Googling the restaurant address once on the bus to make sure he knew where he was going?   
  
Because curiosity killed that cat and Zayn had already gone through a couple lives already in high school.   
  
It takes nearly an hour, but soon Zayn is standing outside of a rather nice looking place called Typing Room, but it is nothing compared to the inside of the building.   
  
The walls are covered in some color that would be best put in between green and blue on the spectrum. The tables are tan, smooth-looking, and in both circle or rectangle shapes depending on the amount of seats it has around it. It's wood flooring here as well, but despite the waiters walking around and the empty space that would allow echoing to occur, it's not as loud as he would have been expecting. Decorative lamps hide against the ceiling, but they are so aesthetically pleasing that they don't stand out all that much, leaving the room well lit, but not unappealing.   
  
He's fifteen minutes early, so he's not expecting to be called back and told there is a table ready just yet, but before he can even get his name out to say he needs a table for two, the girl behind the host stand is smiling while looking at him curiously.   
  
"You must be _Zayn_ ," she hums sweetly and Zayn doesn't want to be creeped out, but he is a little. He's still weird when people make the first approach towards him sometimes. He blames the anxiety coursing through his veins. "I only know because Mr. Tomlinson described you very.. _Accurately_ ," she continues before putting down her pen. "Are you ready to be seated? He's already waiting."   
  
"I- Yes. I would, thank you.." He whispers back, feeling those nerves come back as he follows the girl in front of him. She's pretty, short, curvy, lovely blonde hair, but she's not his type in any slightest way. Probably because she's missing parts he finds interesting and even remotely arousing, but he's gay, not blind. He could see the appeal in her for someone else.   
  
When he gets to the table though, that's when he reminds himself what he is interested in sexually and goddamn if Louis didn't wear it well. He's in more normal attire now, which Zayn is thankful for. He's got some nice jeans on, but just a normal button down covering his top. These sleeves are down this time and Zayn's only mildly disappointed that he has no view of nice tattooed skin.   
  
"You're early," Louis prompts before standing up and leaning over to kiss Zayn's cheek. It's endearing and yes, that's a blush creeping up on his cheeks, but he's not completely lost in the evening yet to forget that Harry does the same things sometimes and it makes him blush even harder. Harry's kisses are softer, Louis' feel like they hold intent and they probably do. They both know where this night is going.   
  
"I wanted to make sure the bus would get me here on time. Better early than late," he says back before following Louis' motions and sitting down.   
  
There's already two glasses in front of each of them, one filled with water, one clearly meant for wine that is being brought over a few moments later. He doesn't have the heart to protest and it doesn't look like Louis is a fast and careless drinker anyways, so he allows his glass to be filled with red before raising it towards Louis' with a shy smile.   
  
"This place wasn't what I was expecting to come to," he offers as he glances at the menu and literally everything looks to die for. The only thing that isn't so appealing is the prices for the five course or the seven course meals. He can barely eat one course, let alone five or seven. He swallows a little thickly as he bites his lip, trying to approach this without sounding like a dick, but words are failing him. "It's.. A lot of food," he chuckles awkwardly instead.   
  
"If you'd like, we could get one meal and split it. Less food," Louis states without hesitation while glancing over the menu before shutting it. "Whatever you would feel comfortable with," he promises at last.   
  
They end up getting a five course and Zayn thanks his lucky stars for that. The wine apparently had come with in a wine pairing and left them with two glasses of wine each. That was reasonable enough for Zayn and by the time he finished his second one, his nerves were gone and his smile was brighter. Their meal consisted of a decorated salad, breadsticks to split, delicious blackberries and walnuts, special sauce covered chicken, and a dessert Zayn wasn't entire sure it was, but had been the most delectable thing that had crossed his tastebuds since being away from home.   
  
He had only managed a few bites of each, but Louis didn't seem fazed as he spoke about anything other than work. In fact, he had found Louis had been more interested in Zayn's studies and what he found fascinating and what was less so. He was asked questions about school, home, his dreams, what his plan was, all things usually Zayn didn't have answers to because every time he planned to, his head was dragged down and he was overwhelmed.   
  
However, he had told Louis about how he wanted to write a novel, finally finish it, and maybe one day be an english teacher if time allowed it. He spoke about travel and wanting to see India, Brazil, and even Egypt. He felt braver with every encouraging smile and nod Louis gave him as he continued and soon he ended up admitting that one day, he wanted to settle down and have a small home with a few pets with the love of his life. How he wanted to live and experience all aspects of life and before he knows it, he is in the back of Louis' town car and dinner is over.   
  
Zayn hadn't even realized dinner had ended and Louis had been walking him out with a hand on the small of his back until they were inside the car and were currently only a few spaces away from each other.   
  
"I have a feeling you don't usually talk this much," Louis hums from where he's seated facing Zayn, sideways on the back seat. Zayn's own figure is mimicking that position as he feels his cheeks start to brighten again and his heart beat faster.   
  
"Must be the wine talking."   
  
"Hmm.. Must be," Louis nearly purrs, Zayn swears, just like the rumble of a fancy sports car, and well.. He melts.   
  
He melts as a hand comes to press softly against the side of his neck and his breath hitches when Louis leans in and lips are touching the other side. It's almost like time stands still, as well as his body, as he thinks about how nice those lips feel against his skin. He doesn't respond at first, selfishly allowing the warm from Louis to pull him in as his eyelids flutter shut. His skin feels like it is vibrating as those lips move higher up, coming into contact with the underside of his jaw and instinctively, Zayn leans his head to the opposite side to give Louis more room.   
  
It's easier to handle it this way; Louis doing all the work as Zayn sits there pliantly and allows him to kiss as he pleases. If he doesn't do anything, he thinks maybe that will save him with his karma. That if he allows Louis to keep moving his lips, them now finding the corner of his mouth, he's okay. He didn't make the first move and he isn't reciprocating.   
  
That is until Louis' lips find his own and he melts then, too. His entire body goes limp and he finds his hand sliding up to hold Louis' shoulder to keep himself steady. It's slow at first, not really going anywhere, and Zayn's lips are still sealed shut as Louis leans in closer and curls his free arm around his waist.   
  
It isn't until he feels himself being pulled into Louis' lap by that arm and that there is a tongue brushing against his bottom lip that he parts them. He's no stranger to kissing, he's done this plenty of times before, but Louis seems to savor it more than the other people Zayn has done this with and he doesn't know if he _likes_ that more or if it makes this more _dangerous_.   
  
Probably both.   
  
Zayn gives in though, parting his lips and allowing Louis access to his mouth, and his fingers curl tighter into Louis' shoulder as his stomach flutters with both nerves and-   
  
_Guilt_ . There it is again. The guilt that Louis isn't his boyfriend and that he shouldn't be sitting in his lap and kissing him. It's the guilt that makes Zayn reluctantly pull away before turning his head to try and catch his breath, needing a moment to think before he speaks.   
  
"I can't do this.. This isn't.. This isn't right, we have to stop," he whispers, pushing at Louis' shoulder even though the man doesn't try him for more after he stops.   
  
"Is something wrong? Would you rather we—"   
  
"I have a boyfriend," Zayn spills like it's vomit from his lips. So fast, no uncomfortable, so unappealing, and immediately he feels the touch on him retract and allow Zayn back into his seat. "I'm sorry.. I'm sorry, I don't- I don't know why I did this.. I love my boyfriend," he tries to explain, but it sounds so terrible coming from his lips. How could he do this to Harry?   
  
It's silent for another moment, but Louis isn't look at him like he's some horrible human being like he expected. No, instead Louis nodding in what looks like to be understanding and Zayn doesn't know why it feels like hope and relief that rushes through his system.   
  
"So then, let's get you back home to this boyfriend," Louis murmurs and Zayn is so lost on how calmly the man took this. He's at a loss for words as well as he nods and moves to put the seatbelt around his body while holding back the tears he feels for this moment.   
  
He expects Louis to kick him out as soon as they reach campus, to say something under his breath, or make a rude comment and tell Zayn he better treat his boyfriend well, but as the door is opening and Zayn is stepping out, he hears his name be called, making him turn around with that soft and worried look.   
  
"I hope we can remain mates," Louis explains. "You're attractive, yes, and your boyfriend is.. _Very_ lucky, but above all that, it's nice to have someone to talk to and I like your insight on things. I would like to be able to continue that if you would."   
  
And well, how could Zayn say _no_ to that?


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, guys, I am so sorry. The last few months have been hell and so much has been going on. Thank you for those who still read this and are interested! x

Zayn very unattractively cries on a bench that rests near the center of campus. It's miserable, because he knows he's wrong, but he also knows he did the right thing. That he understands, but what he isn't certain of is if he tells Harry or not.   
  
Logically, the answer is yes. He knows he should tell Harry, talk it out with him, and see where that gets him. Maybe they can come up with some kind of compromise (because the idea of losing Harry completely doesn't sit well with him) or maybe he could understand Harry's thoughts on the topic of physical intimacy a little more and there wouldn't be this huge gap of missing information between them.    
  
Mentally, his head says yes. Harry is his boyfriend, has been for almost eight months, and they even have that added month anniversary coming up again in the next week. He has told Harry everything except this want to be kissed way more than the daily time slot would allow, as well as maybe at least some heavy petting, and he really doesn't like to keep secrets. It doesn't sit well with him either. He wants to be truthful and Harry has the right to know.   
  
Emotionally, his heart says no. Yes, he went on that date with the want of sleeping with Louis in mind and yes, he did let the man kiss him and even kissed him back. He's aware of the wrong he has done, but he stopped and that had to count for something, right? He stopped because he loves Harry and he came clean with Louis. Zayn doesn't have the intention of trying to land Louis in bed again.    
  
In the end, he has no firm answer as he finds himself walking to Harry's flat, crawling into his bed after locking the door again. He peels off his clothing until he is in nothing but his boxer briefs and pulls the covers back just enough to be able to slide in effortlessly. The arm that comes out to curl around his waist shouldn't feel like fire and ice at the same time, but it does as he nuzzles his face into his boyfriend's neck.    
  
"I don't deserve you," he whispers, more to himself than Harry and luckily, the younger lad doesn't wake up to the words. Zayn believes them with every fiber of his being as he lets his lips place the softly kiss against the underside of Harry's jaw. "And you deserve way better than me."   
  
He cries a little longer, silently, and presses himself fully against Harry's chest. After a few moments, the steady rise and fall of his boyfriend's chest helps him fall asleep, forgetting about Louis for a few hours.    
  
When he wakes up, Harry's on his back, earphones in and eyes watching the rain splash against the window next to the bed. His arm is still around Zayn as he realizes at some point in the night, he had moved to lay  _ on _ Harry instead of against him. There are fingertips brushing up and down his spine leisurely, almost slow enough that Zayn could fall right back asleep to the motion, but he decides not to.   
  
In lieu, he moves to lean back just enough to see Harry properly. The movement makes his boyfriend realize he's awake as he tilts his head towards Zayn as well and lets his other hand pull out one of his earphones.    
  
"Good morning," he hums with that slightly gruff tone.  _ Why must his morning voice be so attractive _ ? "I wasn't expecting you last night. Was everything alright?" He asks and for the smallest moment Zayn almost considers telling Harry. Just letting his loose lips spill everything so he can get rid of this guilt, but the words never come.    
  
"Yeah, I just.. I don't know. Had a freak out when trying to get my homework done and it was late, so I didn't want to call you and wake you up. I figured this would be a little easier," he shrugs before moving to sit up.    
  
Harry's off campus apartment isn't as nice as his, but it's still comfy and gives this nice sense of home whenever he comes around. His bed matches, dark blue comforter with dark blue sheets, but in between are random blankets Harry has stuffed in to keep Zayn’s thin frame warm when he comes over, or so he’s been told. His desk is full of huge books Zayn would never ask to borrow as well as messy notes that he isn't even sure Harry can read, but manages to study from anyways. There's a gorgeous window behind the desk that shows the front side of the campus, which is all old brick and lovely stone.    
  
Harry has wood flooring, just like Zayn and Danny do, which is why they always have to go to bed with socks on before regretting not having them in the morning. Harry lives alone though, so it's just him in this room, and that makes the entire space like a little studio flat. His bed is in the same room as his kitchen and the only other door besides the front one is the one that leads to the bathroom.    
  
It's small, but cozy and Zayn is guilty of hiding away in it when he can because it makes him feel secure. It's a safety net of sorts that calms Zayn down on his most troubling days. With a sigh, he runs his fingers through his hair and lets Harry's hand fall from his back and instead hit the bed behind him.    
  
"Is everything alright now? Do you need anything?" Harry continues, always the cautious and concerned boyfriend. Zayn hates that he gets worked up over the things Harry doesn't do when there are so many things he does do that makes Zayn fall further and further for him.   
  
"A kiss?" Zayn chuckles, mostly teasing because he knows Harry doesn't always think of those things. However, he does give it without hesitation when Zayn asks, moving to lean up and hold Zayn's cheek when doing so. It's a soft brush of lips and it doesn't linger, but it helps ease the older lad's mind as he lets his eyes flutter shut.    
  
"Better?"   
  
"Much," he breathes before opening his eyes again and smiling lightly towards the boy in front of him.    
  
"Do you want to go for breakfast?" Harry questions as he, too, runs a hand through his wild and messy hair. It's endearing to watch, he won't lie, because Harry looks slightly unhappy with the way his fingers get caught on several knots.    
  
"It's raining, Harry," he hums before reaching his own hand up to instead touch the ends of Harry's hair. "How about we stay in and I can work out those knots you've let get out of hand again. Been studying a lot?"    
  
"I can start the kettle for us while I head for a shower," the other male offers.    
  
"I'd like that. Maybe I can run to the bakery on the corner really fast and get those muffins you like before the rain really starts to hit," Zayn offers back and soon, they are parting ways.    
  
Zayn doesn't take too long getting those sweet treats that always seem to put Harry in a better mood. He argues with himself that he isn't doing it out of guilt, but out of love. This isn't something that they don't do. He enjoys mornings like this and it’s Saturday anyways. It's time to be lazy and enjoy not having classes.    
  
When he comes back, he has there muffins for Harry and two for himself, and yes, he is very pleased with himself for this trip. Except for maybe the rain that is soaking through Harry's jacket he is wearing and the cold that is clinging to the skin of his cheeks and nose, making them rosy.

  
"Naturally, it started pouring once I stepped outside," he laughed quietly as he stepped into the flat and saw Harry in the kitchen with two mugs starting to steam with the hot water.     
  
"Hey, free shower at least, right? Why have one in your house when you can get one outside?" Harry teases and Zayn is less than amused, but comes over with the bag of goodies anyways.    
  
"Well, yours was probably warm while I was out there freezing my arse off," he pouts, but all it does it make Harry laugh fondly. It's a laugh that Zayn wants to listen to for years and years to come because of how beautiful and genuine it is. He wonders if Harry would still laugh like that at him if he knew what Zayn had done last night.    
  
There it is again, the guilt. It's painful as he tries to keep that playful pout on his lips.    
  
"You should probably go get into a warm one before you turn into an popsicle," Harry says as he takes the bag and looks inside. The smile on his face is worth the extra ten pounds he gave for the muffins. Especially, when Harry is then looking at him like that and Zayn's world spins a bit faster in the best way possible. "You got the banana chocolate chip one. Two of them," he praises so happily.    
  
"You look like you had a hard and long night. I thought maybe these would help you feel better," Zayn murmurs just as Harry comes closer and kisses his forehead. It's not hot and passionate love making or even angry sex, but it's enough, isn't it? He's been given  _ two _ kisses this morning and some people don't even get one. Why is he so greedy for more?    
  
"You're the best, Zee. Thank you."   
  
Zayn doesn't feel like the best and as he is drinking his tea, warm mug tucked against his palms as he has Harry sit on the floor between his legs, he actually feels like the worse. He's cheated, he's hiding it, and he's letting Harry believe that everything is okay.    
  
Zayn can't stop thinking about the night before and how swell Louis' lips felt against his neck. How those hands felt against his hips, tugging him closer, or the way Louis' breath melted into Zayn's as they kissed..   
  
No, not again. He won't do this again.    
  
With a shake of his head, he puts his mug down  on the tiny coffee table beside him and goes for the comb Harry has brought out. He's sitting with his legs crossed under himself, but Harry is tall enough even on the floor that each of Zayn's knees kind of bumps against the back of his boyfriend's shoulders. Not that Harry seems to mind all that much as he munches on his muffin and hums like it's the best meal of his entire life.    
  
With careful fingers, the raven-haired male starts to part sections of Harry's wild curls, grabbing for small clips as he goes so that the other sections don't fall into the one he is working on. Instantly, he can tell the middle section will be the worst, as it usually is because of Harry sleeping on it and moving about in his sleep. Except this time it is so bad that Zayn can't even separate other sections without it being linked to this one, making him sigh a little in thought.    
  
"Is it bad?" Harry asks, sounding like that child again as he had the same night of his birthday at the movie theater. It's the innocent and naïve part of Harry that Zayn sometimes adores because he doesn't understand it. When Harry gets like this, everything seems new and exciting. This boy, who is going into criminal law, has the childlike mentality when relaxed. If Zayn were a psychology major, he would ask to use Harry as his subject.    
  
"I can fix it, don't worry. Just eat your muffin and drink your tea," he smiles before leaning down and over to kiss Harry's head. This part he knows he isn't doing out of guilt. He actually enjoys helping Harry with his stress knots and it's soothing even to himself.    
  
The only thing is though, Harry wiggles. God, does he fucking wiggle. How this boy has so much energy sometimes is beyond Zayn, but every now and again, he has to reach his hand out to carefully place against the side of Harry's face, fingers lightly touching his cheek. He's soft when trying to silently tell Harry to be still so he doesn't actually tug and hurt his head, but man if that isn't hard to do sometimes.    
  
"Baby, you have to stop moving or I might rip some of your hair out on accident," he coos with a gentle chuckle while his hand brings the comb back to settle against the bottom of the knot. He works his way up, getting towards the middle thickness of the knot before Harry is moving again, turning his head to try and get Zayn's attention. Zayn thanks his video-gaming days for his fast reflexes that allow his hands to immediately move with Harry's hair. Thankfully, he doesn't pull anything.    
  
"Do you want some of your muffin as well, Zee?" He asks and okay, it is so very charming and sweet, but he doesn't have the hands to.    
  
"I'll eat once I'm done, love. Now, head back forward so I can get this knot out. Still on the first one," he teases, but Harry's head is soon moving back to its original place.    
  
The whole ordeal usually takes about an hour or so because Zayn shamelessly just lets his fingers comb lazily through the knot-free hair once it's done, but this time it takes the full hour and then some. A frown forms on Zayn's lips when he gets closer to the scalp, inspecting it and meaning to look for base knots, but soon is finding small scabs on it that couldn't be more than a few days old, if that, instead. Some look as fresh as last night.  _ That's reason enough not to brush one's hair _ .    
  
"Harry.. Have you been scratching while studying again?" He asks while letting his fingers massage the scalp cautiously. He doesn't want to add more pain by pressure to whatever is already trying to heal against the skin.    
  
"I don't know. I don't pay attention when once I open my books," Harry shrugs his shoulders like it's no big deal, but Zayn worries. The scabs seem to be only in the back, just above Harry's nape, and he knows for a fact that's where Harry scratches because his palm rests against the back of his neck while he's leaning over. With a soft breath, he finds himself biting his lip and shaking his head.    
  
"I'll get you that shampoo with the moisturizer added in it again, okay? That should also keep the knots from getting so bad for awhile and let the skin have some relief. Let's try not to scratch these scabs though and what did I tell you about study breaks?"   
  
"That I should have one at least once an hour," Harry recites before moving to rest his temple against Zayn's knee. Zayn's not scolding him, he tells himself, he's just trying to help and be the good boyfriend he knows he can be. He knows Harry struggles just like he does and they help push each other to take care of themselves as well. Something else Zayn is grateful for because Harry is a dream. So what the fuck was he doing last night?    
  
"Once an hour, yes. Even if it's just five minutes to get a snack or something. I don't like you stressing out this bad. Especially, at the beginning of the semester," he added as he let his fingers continue to bring comfort through Harry's hair. "Is this semester extra hard? Is that what it is?"   
  
"I don't think so. Just heavier classes is all and I wasn't expecting this one professor to be satan's spawn," he muttered as he brought his hand to let his finger trace around Zayn's calf. "I'll make it through, I know I will, I'm just trying to catch up. I feel like I'm already so far behind and all these other students make it look like it is a breeze and I can't even—"   
  
"Hey," Zayn cuts in and curls his fingers slightly into Harry's hair to try and calm him down once more. "You are smart. You will get through this. Don't focus on what the other students are doing or feeling, focus on you. We knew you'd be getting the harder classes this semester and that they were to continue like that until your graduated, but I have faith in you," he promised as he felt Harry's shoulders slump. "What can I do to help, Haz? What will make this easier on you?"    
  
"Just having you here, making sure I'm taking care of myself, that's more than I can ask for," Harry replies and god does Zayn's heart soar. They've only been together for seven months, almost eight, and they have a bond that a lot of people would kill for in a relationship. Zayn has a purpose and he knows where he stands here, he knows where he can help and where he is needed, and that's all he has ever really wanted.    
  
At least, on an emotional level, but right now he isn't even thinking about sex or Louis though. Instead he is focused on Harry and how soft the boy looks as he watches out the window once again. He looks so small and all Zayn wants to do is help him realize that he can do this. That he is just as brilliant as those other students, even if it takes him awhile to grasp what he needs to.    
  
It's silent for awhile while Zayn just keeps his hand in Harry's hair and lets his other hand come around to loosely hold the other boy's. His thumb brushes over Harry's knuckles as he lets the lad think and have a moment to just be. Zayn has his own studying to do, has a few chapters he needs to read for homework, but right now that doesn't matter to him as he holds Harry there and keeps him tethered to the ground.    
  
He won't let him fall, no matter what. Zayn may have his wants, but his heart aches for this boy in front of him and that's more than enough for him.

**Author's Note:**

> Come and visit me [here](http://sweaterpawnoctis.tumblr.com)!


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